Do Not Cry for Me
by Becoming Cold
Summary: Uh... Legolas was captured by Gondor soldiers and... um... yeah. I know you've heard this too many times before this, but the story is better than its summary.
1. Part 1

Part 1 

Darkness was all he knew. For hours upon hours darkness, movement and pain engulfed him. How he was captured, he knew not. Hands and blades were all he could remember before his world went black as a blow caught the back of his head.

He was on his daily patrol fully alert and aware. He heard them coming, many of them; too many. He emptied his quiver far too fast for his liking as they ascended, each one of his arrows the owner of a corpse. His twin knives felt heavy in his hands, and were soon lying bloodied on the forest floor. Once unarmed, a wave of hands surrounded him, punching and grabbing. And a blade pressed to his throat stopped his struggles until another smacked against the back of his head, sending a huge shock of pain through his body before he saw and felt no more.

But he awoke still in darkness; the only recognition of consciousness was the pain that throbbed in his head and the movement beneath him. He sensed horses, being an elf, and men. He was on his stomach, slung over the back of a horse with a hand resting on his bound hands behind his back. Blindfolded he was and gagged, ankles bound as well. He dare not stir for fear of what it might cause. So he lay there limply; barely feeling the calloused fingers stroke his bound hands, for the pain in his head was unbearable.

They were slowing to a halt. The stillness lessened the pain slightly. The hand on his back left momentarily, leaving behind a warm patch of which the cold was invading. He relaxed a bit, but not for long as he was pulled off the back of the horse and dragged over a small clearing. The hands left him again and traveled to the back of his head. He quickly shut his eyes when he felt fingers probing and pulling on the knot of his blindfold, wincing as some hairs were pulled from his head.

As the blindfold was removed a flood of light filled his closed eyes. It took all his self-control not to show his discomfort, but he soon grew accustomed to the light. He then realized that the man was still standing over him. A tremour formed in his spine and spread through his body. Unfortunately, the man noticed the tremour and decided the elf was awake.

'Boromir,' the man called to Boromir who was unsaddling his horse.

'What is it, Faramir?' he leaned his saddle against a tree and paced over to Faramir and the bound elf.

'He's awake,' by this time the elf opened his eyes to stare at the two men.

Boromir looked down at the elf and stared into the deep pools that were his eyes. Full of hatred and loathing Boromir mused, as the elf didn't even know him.

Boromir knelt down beside the elf and a hint of fear formed in his deep blue eyes, but was quickly concealed as Boromir continued to stare.

'It seems he is,' he whispered as his hand came down to clear the elf's face of his white-gold hair.

The elf jerked away from the motion and scowled at Boromir through his gag earning him a hard kick to the ribs.

'Do not question me, elf!' Boromir spat out the word 'elf' as a curse. 'You are my prisoner, and you will soon learn to respect me.'

/I will never respect you or any other man. You are cruel and heartless beings. Whips and binds will never make me submit my soul./

The elf curled himself up so as to protect his stomach from any more blows.

'Make sure he doesn't move,' Boromir ordered Faramir as he stormed off. Faramir looked down at the balled up elf with pity in his eyes. Men had hated elves for centuries. The elves thought they were better than men, fairer, wiser, and more reasonable. Men and elves basically stayed away from each other, but when a foe came into the other's realm they would show no mercy towards them, man and elf alike. This elf is a captive of a failed battle attempt. The men set out from Gondor to Mirkwood in an attempt to overcome the small realm. But this elf killed off most of Boromir's men and prevented him from doing anything. Faramir did not like the idea of taking an elf captive even if he did kill his bother's men. Elves should be respected, for they are the wisest and fairest of all creatures that dwell on Middle Earth; this one was especially beautiful. Long, platinum hair flowed down to his mid back that was fanned out beneath him; the warrior's braids perfectly matched his stern and fierce yet beautiful face. His skin had the look of creamy softness that was not found in men and his eyes deep pools of stormy blue.

Faramir saw in those eyes fear, pain, and loathing, making the most pitiful look from a prisoner he had ever seen.

Then, the elf's struggles started anew. He wrenched his shoulders wildly trying to free his bound hands and only succeeding to tighten the rope cutting into his wrists.

Faramir did not have the heart to hurt the thrashing elf, so he tried to calm him by stroking the elf's hair and whispering soothing words.

Panting hard around his gag, the elf submitted to the reassuring motion, resting his head on the soft grass with a defeated sigh.

Faramir could not hold back the tears that welled up in his eyes; elves weren't meant to be captives.

The elf saw Faramir's eyes water. /Why do you cry for me? For I am but a mere prisoner in the hands of cruel men… I need not your pity, for I am a warrior of Mirkwood and son of Thranduil./

'Faramir!' Faramir's hand quickly recoiled from the golden head as if burned. 'Why do you show comfort towards the elf?! He is a prisoner and is to be treated as such. Show him who is the master,' Boromir's voice was menacing as he strode towards Faramir.

Faramir looked down at the elf again and saw the most beautiful pleading look.

'No,' whispered Faramir still staring at the elf.

'If you won't, I will,' said Boromir in a promising voice.

'No! I won't and you won't either!' Faramir pushed Boromir away from Legolas and stood over him as protection.

Boromir's eyes blazed with anger. He shoved Faramir out of the way of the elf and pulled Legolas up by a fistful of hair. Then a dagger flashed in his hand.

'You will not defy my position again,' Faramir started toward Boromir but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the dagger pressed against the elf's throat.

Legolas stiffened as he felt the cold steel blade digging into his throat, threatening to end his life. He desperately pleaded Faramir with his eyes not to come closer.

Faramir looked from Boromir's to Legolas's eyes, seeing the desperate look in the elf's beautiful eyes and his brother's fierce gaze that pierced Faramir's soul. With a sigh he turned and walked to where his horse stood waving its head in impatience.

Boromir snickered maliciously in Legolas's ear and whispered, 'Just wait, elf, for the other surprises we have in store for you.' And with that he let go of Legolas's hair and let him drop to the ground in a heap of limbs and hair.

/And so begins my life of misery./

A/N

I hope you enjoyed it for the most part. Please don't kill me if my updates are… inconsistent, for lack of a better word. Reviews spur me on, fyi. So yeah, hope to hear from you!

Live long, die fighting


	2. Part 2

 Part 2 

Glorfindel tapped lightly on the door to his Lord's study.

'Enter,' came a far off voice from inside the room.

Glorfindel opened the door and found Elrond pacing steadily, completely entranced with the floor.

'You called for me, Elrond?' he asked, shutting the door behind him.

Elrond started at the snap of the door.

'What has you so worried, mellon nin?' Glorfindel crossed the room gracefully and sat down on a chair before the Lord's desk and watched as Elrond continued pacing.

'Men have been spotted along our borders; quite a few of them within the last year. This is not normal. They are planning something,' Elrond's brows furrowed in concentration, still staring at the floor.

Glorfindel chuckled, 'You amuse me.' He stood up and walked over to the clattered bookshelf against the wall. He scanned it quickly before pulling out a map and spread it out on the desk.

He looked up at Elrond, who stopped to stare at Glorfindel, 'It amazes me how you can even find anything in that mess.'

 Glorfindel flashed his white teeth in a grin, 'The Valar gave me this mighty gift,' he said over-dramatically.

Elrond smiled and shook his head, 'You always know how to brighten my spirits.'

'The Valar must have given that to me, too,' he said teasingly. Elrond chuckled and leaned on his desk over the map along with Glorfindel.

'Whereabouts have they been spotted?' Glorfindel inquired, motioning his head to the map.

Elrond pointed to Imladris' western borders, 'Here, mostly. However, some were seen along the southern borders.'

Glorfindel examined the map, 'Has anything been seen along the eastern borders?'

'Nothing, that's what worries me,' Elrond said, his brow furrowing once again.

'Well, there is nothing we can do about that, but, if it makes you happy, I will place a few more patrol guards at the western borders,' Glorfindel said, rolling the map up and placing it among the mess.

He sat on the chair again, flinging his leg over the arm and resting his head in his hand, not seeing the need to be formal, 'Is that all?'

'No,' Elrond said as he sat in his chair behind his desk, looking a little less stressed. 'I would like to know – ' his sentence was cut dead as the door slammed open and Glorfindel tried to straighten his position in the chair.

An exhausted elf, clad in Mirkwood colours, leaned heavily on the door frame, panting like mad, 'Forgive me… my Lord…' he managed to say, 'but, King Thranduil… sends me… to you with… an urgent message concerning… Prince Legolas Thranduilion…'

With a blaze of golden hair, Glorfindel pinned the drained elf to the wall with his feet dangling and a terrified look on his face.

'What happened to Legolas!?' Elrond was sure that the entire manour heard that.

The poor Mirkwood elf was shaking like a leaf out of fear of the Balrog Slayer's menacing voice.

'Prince Legolas has been captured by a group of men, but – ' before he could finish, Glorfindel dropped him and sped out of the door.

Elrond, not even heeding the crumpled elf on the floor, raced after Glorfindel calling his name and trying to stop him. He followed him to the stables where Glorfindel was tacking Asfaloth up in a great hurry.

'Glorfindel,' Elrond tried to reason. 'You don't even know who you're dealing with!' Elrond grabbed the saddle from Glorfindel's hands. 'You can't go out there without any information, it's too dangerous!'

Glorfindel backed into the wall, eyes wide with terror, and slid to the ground. He tucked his knees to his chest and hid his face in his arms, his shoulders heaving from rage.

Elrond leaned the saddle against the opposite wall and kneeled down next the despairing elf.

"Shh… Glorfindel. Calm down. We will find him; he'll be all right. He is a warrior, he can survive anything, you know that," he stroked Glorfindel's hair, trying to sooth him.

Glorfindel sat there, trying to calm his racing heart with deep breaths. Finally, he looked up ahead, staring at nothing in particular, but thinking of everything. /Where is Legolas? Is he hurt? The Valar have mercy on those who captured him once they cross my path. I will find him; I will find my love./

"Glorfindel?" Elrond wasn't sure if Glorfindel was going to sob uncontrolably or punch a hole in the stone wall.

"I have to find him, Elrond," Glorfindel whispered with grim determination.

"He will be found, mellon nin," Elrond crooned. "He must be found."

Night fell swiftly upon the lands. The small camp near the Anduin was silent and still; not a soul stirred. Except for one lone man, as silently as his feet would allow, creeping along to a solitary figure lying on the ground. Faramir crept closer to the elf, noticing his eyes still open and staring, and thought the elf awake. He knelt down, the elf not heeding his presence, and touched the soft, fair cheek of the captive. Legolas started awake suddenly and panicked, feeling the hand touch his cheek. Faramir, not expecting the abrupt movement, started himself, but recovered quickly.

Seeing the unaccompanied man, Legolas calmed slightly, but kept a suspicious air about him, not trusting him fully. Faramir smiled reassuringly seeing the slight trust in the elf's eyes.

His hand came down to the gag that prevented him from speaking and untied the cloth, noting how tight the gag was and felt pity for the unfortunate elf. He moved the gag away slowly so as to not damage further the already sore mouth. This done, he sat the elf up, letting him lean against his chest, and grabbed a water flask from his belt. Faramir held it up the elf's lips, encouraging him to drink.

Legolas accepted the gesture and began to drink greedily.

Faramir pulled the flask away and whispered, 'Little sips.'

Legolas nodded once and Faramir placed the flask near his lips once more.

Taking small mouthfuls, he drank slowly until the flask was empty.

Though, he was still thirsty, Legolas was grateful for the man's kindness. 'Thank you,' was all he could rasp, his voice still weak from not speaking for days.

Faramir smiled hearing Legolas's voice: it was so beautiful and melodic, even if it was a bit scratchy.

'I am so sorry,' Faramir whispered, bowing his head in shame.

Legolas smiled sadly, catching the sincerity in the young man's voice.

''Tis not of your making,' he said, quietly, ''Twas your captain's decision, not yours, I am sure.'

'But I did nothing to stop him, I…'

'You tried, Faramir. Your brother has more power than you; you couldn't've done anything more than try.'

'I could have stopped him, though…' his voice trailed off.

'You saw what could have happened to me had you not retreated. Your captain can be dangerous, Faramir. It took a lot from you to even stand against him, let alone risking a fight with him for my cause. Do not blame yourself, you are not of fault,' Legolas rested his head back on Faramir's shoulder reassuringly, closed his eyes and sighed.

Faramir felt more than heard the troubled sigh.

'I do not know what my brother is planning for you, though I do have some thoughts, and those are ones I would not like to think of,' Faramir stated, troubled himself.

'I know your thoughts, and I fear them, as well. Should they prove true, there's no telling what the outcome might be,' Legolas's brows furrowed in thought and in worry.

Unexpectedly, Legolas's head snapped up and his eyes searched the clearing's borders frantically. Faramir looked at Legolas, confused and unaware.

'Go, Faramir,' Legolas said, fearing the worst. Footfalls from behind them both made Legolas look over Faramir's shoulder. But before anything could be done, the flat of a sword came soaring into Faramir's head, knocking the man to the side, which made the elf fly forward, his head taking a sharp blow against a tree and sending him into darkness.

So shocked was Faramir, that he could've passed off as one who was paralyzed, but that was far from the case, for he turned onto his back, groaning at the excruciating pain shooting through his head, to discern who his assailant was. His eyes widened in terror and alarm to see his own brother standing over him, Boromir's eyes blazed with anger.

As quickly as the blow to Faramir's head came, Boromir's eyes changed to that of mock kindness and compassion. Troubled by the sudden change, Faramir started to draw back, still on his back, anxiousness laced through his facial features.

Having none of that, Boromir stilled his brother by placing a foot on his chest and pressing down none to lightly, his eyes never loosing that dangerous kindness.

'Oh, my little brother,' Boromir kneeled, increasing the pressure on Faramir's chest two fold. 'Apparently, you have yet to learn the ways of war. Creating a friendship with the enemy, I find you. Do you have no respect for your own people?' Saying this, he shifted most of his weight to Faramir's chest, making him have to gasp to get a bit of air into his suffocated lugs. Boromir only laughed at his brother's predicament. 'You're so weak, brother. How can you even live with yourself knowing this?'

At this statement, Faramir's blood rushed through his veins, his cheeks flushing in pent up anger. Seeing red, he grabbed Boromir's foot and threw him off his chest, making his brother fly a good three meters away and hit the ground with an audible thud, knocking the wind from his body.

Getting up quickly, he looked over to Boromir's groaning, curled up figure, scowling at the man, though his full fledged anger fled quickly.

'Had you been me at this moment, you'd've already been at my throat with a knife pressed to it. However, this is not the case, and I pity you,' he said while walking over to the unconscious form of the elf who was stirring slightly. 

Just as he stooped to pick Legolas off the ground, a body collided into his, both landing hard on the ground, but Faramir's taking the full blow of the painful contact. Faramir felt a cold, sharp blade biting into his neck and opened his eyes against the dull ache racing through his body just to look into the insane eyes of his brother.

'I don't need to be you to have a knife pressed to your throat,' he said as he applied pressure to the threatening weapon, drawing a thin line of blood.

Just then a glowing form flew into Boromir and shoved him off of Faramir and onto to the ground.

The sudden force that rammed into him stunned Boromir and when he realized what hit him, his eyes turned red with fury. He saw the captive elf, still bound hand and foot, lying not one foot away from him sending daggers at him with his hate-filled eyes.

/The elf dared to defy me for a second time?! He shall pay dearly for this./

The other soldiers had eventually heard the clamour and had gone over to where the three persons were fighting for dominance over the other.

Boromir had seen this and, without much care, picked up the elf and, literally, threw him over to his men. 'Watch him,' Boromir growled to the bewildered soldiers, then stalked over to his brother who was still trying to recover from his treatment.

'Coward!' Legolas shouted at Boromir from his position on the ground.

The guards looked down at the bound elf as if he were about to transform into a Balrog and kill them all. They backed away slowly, eyes wide and terrified, as Boromir spun around and met the elf's seething gaze with a withering, death-stare of his own.

/By the gods, this elf will know what pain really is once I've finished with him./

In seconds, Boromir had Legolas pinned to a tree trunk by the throat with his feet dangling a fair height off the ground.

'What did you call me?' Boromir tightened his grip on the elf's throat, which made him struggle for even an inkling of a breath.

Despite the fact that he couldn't breathe, Legolas kept the defiance and rage in his eyes. This angered Boromir greatly, but before he had time to do anything about it, Legolas brought up his bound feet and kicked Boromir hard in the stomach, sending him flying back as Legolas fell from his grasp in a heap at the tree's base.

Legolas coughed, trying to clear his windpipe to get air back into his lungs, then looked to where the Captain lay stunned and gasping for breath from the hard blow.

With one last cough and wheezing gasp, Legolas spat, 'You heard me.'

A/N

Don't kill me! throws arms in front of face I'll try to update as soon as possible, but, again, reviews spur me on.

Live long, die fighting


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